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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27935961">Draco: a name</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pride_Frost/pseuds/Pride_Frost'>Pride_Frost</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, POV Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:02:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27935961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pride_Frost/pseuds/Pride_Frost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I love my name</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy &amp; Narcissa Black Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Draco: a name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I love my name, Draco. It's one of the things I have left of my mother. Here that I stand, in the middle of a cold cemetery, she will never shadow me again. Among all these graves and coffins she does not belong. I probably do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile does not fit in here, her warmth and love. I’m starting to wonder if I have anything of that ..., if I got anything from her more than a name? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The church bells are ringing cheerfully, I do not feel anything like them. I'm a gloomy little boy who miss his mother and his friends. But here I am not alone in being so, I see several similar souls here. Many who miss something that will never come back. People who mourn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I crouch next to the small grave I am standing next to. The flowers are nothing more than a pile of soil, the candles burnt out and the tombstone overgrown. I put my hand on the engraved words, the stone is as cold as everything else. A tear escapes when I look through my transparent hand at the name, Draco it says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why did my mother leave me here?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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